


Gilded Trophies

by grumblebee



Series: A king, A trophy, A lover [4]
Category: Turn - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Ben is a trophy, Collars, Hand Job, M/M, Spoils verse, sex in front of mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee/pseuds/grumblebee
Summary: George notices Ben's eyes wandering to certain fashion trends in court, revealing another deep desire.





	Gilded Trophies

**Author's Note:**

> For @wellreadfan, who is so creative and wonderful!

George never pretended to understand the fashions of the court. Each season would come round, rolling in a new array of patterns and accessories, their meaning lost on him. It did not stop his advisors from keeping him within the loop, often presenting him with swatches of new fabric, and sketches of the newest suit. George would blindly poke at one, order it in the deepest blue he could find, and wear it at the next feast. He may not understand the fashions, but he strongly desired to look his best.

Benjamin, however, did notice. In court, George could catch Ben’s eyes wandering from lady to lady, taking in their lavish attire with utmost care. Now, Benjamin was a simple man, so this took George by surprise. He was practically stuffed into the finest garments he owned by force. He refused to part with garments even after they've been soiled by ink or spilled tea. No matter how sweetly George offered to replace his wardrobe with a new collection, Ben turned it down. So it seemed a bit odd that his humble husband now had a wandering eye for the latest trends.

“Kings Washington and Benjamin, the ladies of the high court wish to speak with you about the conditions of the widow’s refuge located north of the capital.”

“And to what issues are you addressing?”

George watched as Ben delegated, the woman before him stating her case. Yet he noticed Ben’s gaze start to travel, flirting occasionally to the woman’s throat as she spoke. George paid a little more attention. The woman wore a small silver choker, with a red ruby at the center. It hugged her throat snuggly, the jewel dancing in the light as she spoke. It was an interesting piece, distracting as all hell for someone with an eye for flashy things--and yet here it was distracting Ben.

“I'm sorry, Lady Elizabeth, but the widow refuge is open to ladies and their children regardless of their ability to work or their intention to remarry. For many it is their final home until death. I pray that for the lack of humility you showed today that you and yours may never have to use its services. You're only one husband away from it.”

Lady Elizabeth bowed and exited the throne room, albeit in a little bit of a huff, and a new lady stepped forward.

“Kings Washington and Benjamin, I wish to speak with you about roads leading from the dairy farms.”

“Would this be a total repair or a new road?”

“New roads, my king.”

“Proceed.”

George knew this lady well. Her father owned most of the dairy farms. They were well to-do, and always courteous, setting aside a small private farm just for the needs of the castle. She smoothed the silk of her long skirts with her hands as she spoke, and yet again Ben seemed a little distracted. His eyes dropped from hers, settling on a familiar bauble: a neat little choker. This one was made of ornate silver, twisted into thin curls around her neck. It looked tight, like a collar, and George couldn't help but notice how Ben’s eyes glazed over with some want as his mind drifted elsewhere.

_Cheeky boy._

George stifled the urge to smile as Ben wrapped up his meeting. “Lady Margaret, your family has done our kingdom a great service. If a new road will mean faster deliveries, and less waste during the warm summer months, we shall send out some men to survey the land as soon as next month.”

“You are most kind, King Benjamin.”

George cleared his throat, having quite a lot to think about. The court settled quickly, eyes on him as he straightened up in his seat. “We have heard enough for today. Meetings will be adjourned until tomorrow.”

* * *

 

A few weeks later a package was delivered to George’s chambers while Ben was reading in the library. It was a small wooden box, from a respectable jeweler George favored. He opened it up eagerly, inspecting the lovely piece George had requested.

A choker fit for a king.

Well, maybe not so much a choker as it was a collar. Thicker than the ones the ladies at court wore, it would sit two fingers wide on the throat, looking more like an embellished shackle than a delicate piece of jewelry. But this was no rusted iron clamp from dungeons, this was a thing of beauty. George had specifically instructed that the jeweler use a rosy hue of gold for the band, stamping it with imprints of hydrangea blooms. The clustered heads of the hydrangeas were set with sparkling blue topaz.

George smiled as he examined the collar under the light. He rubbed his thumb over the stones, turning the collar over to see the fine thought that had been put in. In the sunlight, from this angle, it was blue and gold-- the mark of a Washington. But with the slightest turn, and a little spark of sunlight, the rosy hue shone through, and the topaz flickered green beneath its blue, and the collar transformed: green and bronze, the purest symbol of a Tallmadge.

He set it back in the box, and worked to prepare the chambers for Ben’s return. The curtains were drawn, and candles lit. The wooden box lay out on the bed, nestled in a soft bed of blossoms George had picked from the garden. All there was left was to wait, and hope that he had guessed Ben’s deep desires correctly. 

* * *

  
Ben arrived at the chambers not long after sunset, having been told that George was waiting on him in their bed. He opened the door cautiously, as of scared to spook George from whatever activities may be keeping him in bed. George, however, was still fully dressed, seated on the bed next to the box.

“I have something for you, darling.” George said softly, waving Ben over. He spoke warmly, hoping not to make Ben uneasy with this new gift. Ben padded over quietly, a quizzical look on his face.

“What is it?” He asked. George let out a breath of relief, thankful words like horribly expensive weren't thrown out just yet. He handed Ben the box, watching as he examined it closely. “This is from the royal jeweler.” He remarked.

“That it is.” George said, a playful smile on his face. “And though it's very pretty, I wish to see you wear it only in my company.” Ben looked up, curiosity piqued, before unclasping the little metal hook and lifting the lid. There in the velvet lined box was the collar, glittering in the light of the candles.

“ _Oh_ ” Ben breathed, his face turning a wonderful shade of cherry red. He let his fingers ghost over the collar, feeling the raised bumps of the gemstones, and the soft velvet lining in the back. It clicked shut like a cuff, and George could see Ben shiver with excitement at the thought of being snapped into this piece.

“My darling boy, how could I not notice you admiring the lovely things other ladies wear to court?” George said, pulling Ben close. “And if it's not too forward, how could I ignore my sweet husband's deep wish to be adorned in a little collar I made special for him.”

Ben bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. “I know we didn't talk about...about this, George. I didn't bring it up because I was afraid you’d be worried that I wanted you to...to…” he trailed off, whether from embarrassment or a lack of words George had no idea. He decided to urge it on a bit.

“You wanted me to _what_ , Benjamin?”

“ _Claim me._ _Own_ me...like one of your trophies. Like the trophy you...you took home long ago.”

George felt the breath leave his lungs, a swell of pride displacing it in his chest. Benjamin trusted him--well enough to actually play on their dynamic from long ago. And though George would proceed with caution, he would not disappoint.

“Well then, let this be the real thing. Go wash up, my darling, and do not redress. I shall have you just as a husband should have on their wedding night.” Ben squirmed and blushed, a shy smile on his face.

“Yes, _my king._ ” He whispered, almost in a giggle, as he slinked off towards the tub. George felt a jolt of excitement rush through him, and he waited eagerly on the bed as his faux betrothed readied himself for what would be a do over on their rocky wedding night.

A few minutes later the scent of jasmine and ylang ylang floated in on steam from the bath, and George could hear gentle splashing and humming. His cock hardened at the thought of Ben scrubbing down, prepping himself for him. By the time he heard the wet slap of feet on the stone floor, George had moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

Ben emerged from the bath, hair brushed out in gentle waves, a black silk robe clinging to his still damp body. George motioned for him to come closer, the collar in hand. “How lovely you look, Benjamin.” He cooed. “Chin up.” Ben lifted his chin, an excited smile creeping across his lips. George fitted the collar around his throat, shutting it with a sharp click. Ben sucked in a short breath, the collar pressing against the sensitive skin at his throat.

The collar looked divine, shimmering as Ben tried to steady his breathing. “My beautiful little trophy.” George said, fingers pulling at the robe clinging to Ben’s slight frame. “Let me see you.”

“Yes, my king.” Ben said, undoing the knot in his sash, and peeling the robe off slowly. He shifted anxiously on his feet, too eager to stand around and be admired. George made quick work of taking Ben in, running his hands over his hips before pulling him down onto the bed.

He kissed him slowly, sucking on the skin around the collar with care. “My boy, you look divine” he growled, nipping Ben just enough to make him yelp. Ben writhed, guiding George's hands between his legs. “Eager, I see.” George said, wrapping a fist around Ben’s already hard cock.

It was astounding, really. Ben pushed into his fist, chasing the loose grip George teased him with. Responded to every woo and comment with stunning enthusiasm. By the time George had stretched him open, Ben was practically fucking himself on his three fingers.

“What a good little trophy you are. Almost good enough to mount. But _where_.” George asked, pulling his fingers away to tease at Ben’s hole. Ben whimpered, and mumbled something under his breath. George only caught a hint of it, but it sounded too good to be true.

“What was that, Benjamin? A little louder.”

“ _Your cock._ ”

George stroked his own length, still trapped in his silks. “Mount you? Are you certain? It's a place only for the best trophy after all.” George saw a hint of amusement cross Ben’s face. He'd pay for that little comment later. But Ben nodded, wetting his lips before speaking.

“I can be your trophy.”

“My dear boy, you _are_ a trophy.”

Ben shivered, spreading his legs a little further. George couldn't resist any longer. He disrobed quickly, laying Ben back high on the side of the bed, so that when his head was tilted back he could almost tip it over the side. A flash of excitement sparked in Ben’s eyes as he saw what waited for him just over the side of the bed: a mirror.

“You're going to watch, and see just how gorgeous you look.” George growled, wedging himself between Ben’s legs. Ben’s breath hitched, chest puffing out as he took in the sight of himself being entered.

“ _Yes, my king.”_

George pushed in, watching with delight in the mirror as Ben’s eyes flickered close. He moved in rhythm with George's thrusts, lips pursed in a perfect ‘o’ as he looked at himself in the mirror. Legs up, chest rising and falling, neck mottled with lovebites, Ben looked to die for. But more importantly was how he fixated on the collar. How it glinted in the light of the candles as George took him. How the colors he was shackled to changed with each thrust.

Washington. Tallmadge. Washington. Tallmadge. Tallmadge. Tallmadge. Tallmadge. _Washington_.

George grasped Ben’s cock, twisting his fist over the head in time to pump through Ben’s orgasm, watching him jerk and squirm so much he wasn't sure if Tallmadge or Washington was the final blow. George finished a moment later, and wasted no time pulling Ben up from his position and letting him curl against his chest. The collar was removed, and George admired the perfect ring of untouched skin left between two rows of purple bruises.

“My darling husband. My Benjamin. Was that to your liking?” George cooed, planting a sweet kiss onto Ben’s brow. He tasted of sweat and jasmine oil. Ben nodded, his chest still racing to catch his breath.

“I think…” he panted. “I shall keep the collar.”

 


End file.
